


Hospital - Visitor

by Aithilin



Series: First Meetings [16]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, Hospitals, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 03:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10689231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Nyx had only ever heard about the Astrals through the stories people told each other. If they were all like Carbuncle, he might have had a bit more faith.





	Hospital - Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> This was (sort of) prompted at my [Tumblr](http://aithilin.tumblr.com/).
> 
> And then I'd realised that Nyx hadn't met someone else important to Noct.

The problem that came with summoning or seeing Carbuncle was that the little Astral only came when someone was close to death. And out of all the Astrals Nyx had ever heard of— whether from back home, from Lucis, or beyond— Carbuncle seemed to be the only one that really picked favourites. Once answering to a summons, the little guy might just take a liking to the human and stick around. 

Nyx was glad he had taken a liking to Noctis. Because the little figurine Regis had placed by the head of Noct’s hospital bed never moved, and Nyx had to believe that it was there for a reason. That there was some sort of divine force guiding Noct through his injuries— through the medication-induced sleep.

The blast that had rocked a city block, killing far fewer people than it could have, was targeted. Nyx could hear the buzz of Guard and Glaive chatter through his earpiece about it— the reminder that he could be here, at Noct’s side, while others hunted down the group responsible for this. Responsible for hurting a bunch of civilians and kids. 

“He’s asked for you,” Regis had said when he met them in the hallway. When he offered the room number to Nyx and Libertus let him run off without pursuing. 

Nyx had tried to smile when he first stepped into the room. He tried to be relieved that those hazy blue eyes were looking for him, tracking him, that the steady noise from the machines crowded around the head of the bed were so regular. He tried to reassure, to normalise, to smile for Noct as the prince was stretched out in a stark white hospital bed. “You called, your highness?”

He had meant it as a joke, something light to watch Noct’s lips twitch to a smile for him. And it worked, but he couldn’t keep that lightness, not like this. “Noct… _Myshka_.”

Folding himself into the chair left by the bed, he talked to Noct for as long as he could. Told him what little he knew, that Libertus was out in the hallway while Crowe and Pelna were helping the Crownsguard rain holy hell down on the people who did this. He sat at the prince’s side just told him everything he knew was happening, trying to easy the worry and guilt he knew what building the longer the prince was awake with him.

Clarus came in once to let them know that Gladiolus and Prompto were fine. That out of everyone, Prompto had escaped with only cuts and bruises and a concussion. Gladio had taken the worst of it, trying to protect the rest of them. Their placement in the arcade— so far in the back with the old machines, behind the dividing wall that no one planting the bomb had factored in— had saved their lives. 

It wasn’t until Noct was dozing again, leaning into every touch, trying to keep up with Nyx’s one sided conversation, that the Glaive noticed the little figurine being held tight. “Dad brought it.”

“You should let it do its job then,” Nyx examined the figure, held Noct’s hand to make up for the emptiness now. He set the old little thing down by Noct’s shoulder. “Sleep, little prince. I’ll be right here.”

Nyx kept talking— telling as many stories as he could to the prince, of Galahd, of his misadventures and misspent youth— until he started to doze. 

The little creature was there when he woke. 

If he wasn’t stiff from the chair, he would have thought he was dreaming. 

Dreaming would have made more sense than coming nose-to-nose with an Astral. Even one as small and unassuming as Carbuncle. But here they were. 

The creature was curled in the space next to Noct’s head, tail draped over the prince’s shoulder, one long ear trained on the prince’s breathing. Nyx didn’t know what to actually make of the situation, or those dark, ancient eyes watching him. So he straightened in the chair and squeezed Noct’s hand, surprised by the warning growl it earned him. 

“I’m not trying to wake him up,” Nyx offered, voice low. He smiles at the little creature, not resisting the temptation to reach out to it, to touch the grey fur. “You’re looking after him, for me?”

There was a small chirrup, and the creature curled up again, ignoring the hand moving over it. Nyx sighed, settling against to watch Noct sleep.

“Good. I’ll make you a deal,” Nyx smiled at the twitch of ears and the look the creature was giving him; “You take care of him when he sleeps, I’ll handle it when he’s awake.”

He didn’t understand the Astrals— not at the best of times. At most, they were stories. Happy things told between people who needed a bit of hope in the middle of a war. But if they were all like the little creature curled protectively at the prince’s shoulder, he could possibly start believing that there was some good in them. His phone buzzed, and he pulled away long enough to check it. When he looked back, he could only see the little figurine on the bed next to Noct’s head, where the Astral had been. 

He smiled at the little text he had received: _Deal._


End file.
